


Lost Boy

by raininginthestreets



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Peter Pan Fusion, Angst, Fluff, Gen or Pre-Slash, Hopeful Ending, Kid Fic, Kid Sherlock Holmes, Possibly Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-21
Updated: 2020-01-21
Packaged: 2021-02-27 10:47:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 591
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22342039
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/raininginthestreets/pseuds/raininginthestreets
Summary: Peter Pan visits a crying Sherlock on a roof.
Relationships: Sherlock Holmes & John Watson, Sherlock Holmes & Peter Pan (John), Sherlock Holmes/John Watson
Kudos: 20





	Lost Boy

Sherlock was cold and exhausted. Silent sobs sent shockwaves through his body and hateful thoughts pierced his mind. His head hurt and his eyes felt sore. Eventually the breeze of the night, the darkness of the grounds, and the light of the moon eventually brought him to the mental state of apathy. He leaned back on to his hands, the loose texture of the roof tiles reminded him of his height.

He very nearly fell off when a quiet voice spoke next to him. 

“It’s awful, isn’t it? Not being needed or wanted.”

There was a boy sitting next to him, dressed in a green tunic and barefoot. 

“You live in a forest?” Sherlock blurted out. “How did you get up here? What’s your name?”

The strange boy laughed. “I live in a house, sometimes. Sometimes it's in the trees. Other times it's in a city or a town. You can call me Peter.”

“But that isn’t your real name,” Sherlock said stubbornly. “You also didn’t answer how you got on top of my roof.”

“No, it’s not,” the boy smiled sadly. “But I can’t tell you what my real name is because I don’t really know it myself. At least, not when I’m like this.”

“Like what?”

“When I’m Peter Pan, of course!” Peter smiled impishly and jumped up. And then fell. Even before Sherlock had any time to react, the boy was  _ floating _ above him. “Would you like to learn how to fly?”

“To fly? This is how you got up here?” Sherlock whispered. As a small boy of 10 and in need of much hope, it wasn’t hard for him to wish that it was all true.

“How else could I have gotten up here? I can’t climb houses like you can.”

“But you can fly. I want to fly too.” Sherlock unsteadily got to his feet, a determined look upon his face. 

“You just have to believe. Well, you’ve also go to have hope.”

“Hope?” Sherlock’s face fell. “Rubbish.”

“I figured that way might be a bit tedious for you. I’ve got a bag of pixie dust that should do the trick. Close your eyes and pinch your nose. Wouldn’t want to sneeze it off of you.”

Sherlock flew off with Peter that night and the night after that. And the night after that one and the next. He always came home around sunrise, never too tired. Eventually, as he got older, Peter would visit less and less. The time soon came when Peter appeared at Sherlock’s window looking as sad as Sherlock did that first night.

“This is goodbye, isn’t it?”

“To Peter, yes,” Peter smiled softly, “But you’ll see me again, some day. I’ve gotten too old to be Peter. And you’ve gotten too old for Neverland. Next time we meet, Sherlock, my name won’t be Peter. I don’t know if I’ll remember this life but I know I can never forget you.”

Sherlock furrowed his brow. “That’s what everyone says. You’ll forget me and I’ll be miserable for the rest of my life. No one talks to me except you. No one likes me except you. Can’t you stay? Please?” He didn’t want to sound desperate but he was.

“I’m sorry, Sherlock. I promise I’ll try to find you.”

As Peter faded from sight, never looking back at a yelling Sherlock, Sherlock broke. The now 14 year old cried in a manner similar to the first night he flew. He fell asleep below the empty window. 

He never kept his bedroom window open again. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading. I'm thinking about writing more. Let me know if you'd read it :)


End file.
